Passing Ships
by Sereneffect
Summary: Just one interaction, one passing night. As complete strangers, they shared a moment, but as quickly as it came, it was over. Rated conservatively for suggestive stuff and language, probably.


He hit the ground hard, arms first to protect his face, and the barrier shut behind him as he tried to lurch to his knees. His hand slipped out from under him and he fell back to the grimy floor. His vision swam and blurred and his stomach threatened to avail itself of its primarily alcoholic contents.

"You can sleep it off in there, turian. Try not to cause any more trouble. Or… be sick on anyone…"

He finally made it to his knees as a velvety feminine laugh reached his ears. Slowly, he sought out the source before settling his bleary eyes on a human woman, perched across one of the peripheral benches. He could made out the blue of a uniform, and a blot of striking copper… fringe, but the details were muddled. Except for the smirk.

"Quite the shore leave, eh?" she mused, letting one foot dangle, "Though you appear to have had more than your fair share."

He growled something nondescript and dragged himself to the back of the cell; with his back against the wall, it felt less like he might fall through the floor. "Hardly," he croaked, "but you can't tell C-Sec that." He wasn't sure it she could read his drunken smile, or if he'd even managed to smile at all. "What about you?"

The woman chuckled again, and as his equilibrium sluggishly righted itself, he could make out a sparkle of amusement in her… very bright, very… pretty… Her voice jolted him back to the present.

"Officially? Disturbing the peace, assault, probably a drunken disorderly as well… But actually?" Her smile widened a little. "Being a stubborn bitch in a bar." With a satisfied huff, she settled her hands behind her head. "To be fair, the krogan swung first. I was merely defending myself."

"Sure, a krogan," he slurred with a laugh. "You'd be dead."

"Yet here I sit," she quipped back. "What's your name, birdman?"

Well, it wouldn't hurt anything… "Gunnery Sergeant Garrus Vakarian, Turian military, stationed aboard the _Steadfast."_

"Wanna give me your serial and service record, too, Gunny?" she scoffed. "Relax. We're in a C-Sec holding cell. You can forego your plethora of protocols."

Now it was his turn to scoff. "Did it occur to you that maybe I'm in here because I ignored protocol?" With a grunt, he settled back as comfortably as he could without pinching his fringe. "Who are you?"

"Lieutenant Jane Shepard, Alliance Navy," she replied with a casual salute, "stationed aboard the _SSV Hyderabad_ , at your service."

Lieutenant… She was on her way to officer, and in a jail cell. "So how'd you avoid death by krogan, pyjak?" he finally asked. His head had at least begun to clear, though it ached something awful…

"Unlike your bulky, plated self, a blow from a krogan would kill me. But only if he hit me." She grinned. "He couldn't touch me."

"I doubt that. Krogan are fierce warriors—"

"And very slow," she cut him off. With only a quiet huff, she hopped deftly to her feet, turned, and crouched in front of him. "Humans are quite spry for our relative size, especially with… training." She gave his cheek a familiar pat before returning to her perch. "I merely stayed out of reach until the walking mountain put himself through the bar's window."

"But… that shouldn't…" How could she have beaten a krogan without weapons, or help? She clearly didn't have the strength…

"Brute force is only one tool in the arsenal, kid. Try to consider the others, hm?"

He had to bite back the instinctive snarl that pulsed in his chest. Uppity prey… A small shake of his head made his stomach turn, but with it came clarity. Humans are not prey. "So why throw you in here, then?"

The lieutenant took a long second before answering. "I may have… egged him on a bit."

"You humans have an amazing lack of self-preservation when intoxicated," Garrus murmured, shifting one foot, then the other. Well, those still worked…

"Ha. One drink won't render me so foolish," she replied, staring off through the barrier. "Your duty and obedience wouldn't let you understand. It's a different type of high."

This human… No wonder his father hated them so much. "Try me," he bristled, glancing up as one of the C-Sec guards passed by.

"No talking!"

The woman's lip pulled in an amused smirk as the officer departed, and after a moment, looked over at him again. "Have you ever had a massive adrenaline rush? Felt the ecstasy and high of simply being _alive_?" Her gaze grew distant and her expression softened. "You never want it to end…"

He swallowed awkwardly and tried to hide his discomfort. What she was describing sounded very… sensual. No… No, that was the drink still talking. "So what, you were chasing your fix when C-Sec put a stop to it?"

"Prolonging, Gunny. The _Hyderabad_ has a reputation as a slaver hunter; Captain Harcourt is a hero. And we just returned with a crew of vorcha slavers in shackles." She took a deep breath through her nose, one hand running absently through her hair. "We chased them for eleven straight hours, dodging their defenses and trying to cripple their ship, save their captives. Our engines almost burned out, and we lost at least 2 sectors of paneling, but we got them, even the captain. Dropped them with the authorities and hit the Wards for shore leave." Her hand stilled against the side of her neck and he felt his own throat tighten. "Maker, we were still soaring when we made it to that bar…"

"And the brawl was just—"

"Overconfidence. A pick-me-up. Take your pick." She sighed and let her hands fall into her lap. "Can't tell C-Sec that, though. To them, it's just a drunk soldiers' brawl. Not worth it to tell them differently."

Garrus let out a quiet chuff. "So now you wait for your CO to get you out?"

Shepard chuckled and turned so she was seated facing him. Her foot bounced absently, booted heel tapping rhythmically. "Hardly. I was up for commendation, now part of an… incident. Our ambassador will be called, they'll pass down a punishment, maybe even a reassignment, and life will go on."

"And… what about your… high?"

She set her elbows on her knees and knit her fingers together between them with a knowing smile. "It's the military, Gunny. There'll always be something to make me feel alive. Don't you worry about that." After a slow breath, she sat back. "And what about you? Should I expect to see you dragged out by turian MPs for dishonoring your unit?"

Now he had to laugh, casting her an amused glance out of the corner of his eye. "Hardly. We're on a scheduled maintenance leave for the next three cycles. I may very well be in here until then, unless…" He trailed off and swallowed thickly. "I'm in no danger of court martial, if that's your worry."

But she had already straightened, one brow arched with piqued interest. "'Unless' what?"

Either humans were more observant than he thought, or this lieutenant was an exceptional… individual. "It's a… personal matter."

But just his luck, she wouldn't be deterred so easily. "I just told you I get my kicks cheating death. I'm sure you can tell me. Besides—" She smirked. "—it's not as if we'll see each other again."

Well… She had a point… Perhaps it was the lingering dampening of his judgment, but he couldn't think of a reason not to. "I… was drinking because I met with my father—a C-Sec officer—and we… fought."

The human's eyes sparkled and she tapped a finger against her lip. "And you're worried _he'll_ be the one to show up and bail you out."

He grimaced. "Eventually. I… may have refused to identify myself."

"And so they've added resisting arrest to your charges, then?" She snorted. "No doubt you'd have an even larger quarrel with your father if he _were_ to arrive, hm?"

"That… is what I expect," he acquiesced with a resigned wave of one hand. "He'll see it as proof that he's right."

"Quite the loving family, then," she murmured, crossing her arms loosely over her stomach. "Well, we're stuck here, my scaly friend, for the immediate duration. Any ideas?"

Garrus settled back and looked up at her amused expression. "For escape?"

That made her laugh outright. "Aren't we both in enough trouble? No, I mean to keep us occupied. Entertained." She was still grinning. "Unless, of course, you've done enough associating with the human."

She was trying to get a rise out of him… why? "I—I don't—" he started indignantly. Why was he so insulted? Why was she so… open? Tolerant?

"Easy, kid, Just teasing you." She smirked. "No wonder they say turians all have a stick up their asses…"

Oh. Humans… His mandibles snapped tight to his face and he scratched the side of his neck awkwardly. "Did… you have something in mind?"

"Got any stories?"

Stories? "Funny? Sad? Philosophical?" What was she playing at? Was she trying to get intel? Catch him off-guard?

"Anything. I'm sure you have a few about your father." She chuckled. "I have a few from home, if you'd like."

Volunteering personal information? Every military bone in his body—and there were a lot of them—told him something was off, yet she showed no signs of duress, nor deception. But he was no expert on humans. He only nodded.

The space between her… they weren't brow plates… Her forehead wrinkled, and he could see curiosity in her eyes. "Alright. Well, I grew up on Earth, on the streets of one of the larger cities. No family, no parents to quarrel with." She threw him a cheeky smile. "No home, but I had… friends, of a type. 'Associates' may be more accurate, with some exceptions. We had an… organization—"

"You were in a gang." Spirits, were the humans so savage that their military was full of mercenaries?

"Not… Not like that," she backtracked, "Not like the Blue Suns, or Eclipse. We were… localized. Small scale. Just a bunch of kids scraping by, looking out for each other, at first." Her expression grew soft. "We were all any of us had…" A small shake of her head, and she seemed to remember herself. "Anyway, we stole what we needed, kept people off our tails, out of our way. Sometimes we'd even get hired as spies. No one notices the poor, the miserable. The destitute depress people, so they never saw us." She rolled her shoulders back and smiled. "The governor—the woman in charge, and very vocally against the gangs—hired us to spy on her competition in the next election. Obviously, she expected a scandal, like corruption, or some kind of depravity." A catlike grin spread across her face. "What we did see, however, was even better."

"What was it?"

When she sat forward again, he became aware of the fact that he'd been leaning toward her and quickly sat back.

"The competition… in bed… with a woman." The lieutenant's eyes sparkled. "But not just any woman. Our client's wife!"

His laughter escaped him before he could stop it. "I'm sure she was thrilled."

"Oh, it gets better," she chuckled, "An hour after she left, the client's _daughter_ shows up and off they go!"

His guffaw made the guards look over and he coughed to hide it. "Spirits…"

"Of course, she was devastated, and very… amenable to paying double for our silence."

Garrus snorted. "I can imagine. Did she win the election?"

Shepard plucked at invisible dust on her uniform with a sort of… secret smile. "Funny thing about teenagers. They're terrible at keeping secrets."

Masterful… Or merely opportunistic. And not nearly so bad as he'd imagined. He laughed. "You don't strike me as the criminal type," he finally said, levering himself to his feet. "Though this seems like an unlikely career change for a criminal." The bench across the cell was a godsend on his back and he sighed gratefully as he sank down.

"I cleaned up my act. Went respectable. Even got a medal."

Oh? "I'd like to hear _that_ story," he mumbled, stretching out his legs.

"It's your turn to tell one," she reminded him, studying his feet half a yard from her own. "So how 'bout it?"

Well… It couldn't hurt… "When I was in basic training, we would always make bets on the combat sims. Who'd get the most headshots, who could go unnoticed behind enemy lines, who'd get the deciding shot. Never a lot of money, but it made for interesting shore leave. I don't know why, but I started gloating that I'd get the kill shot in my next sim in front of some of the junior officers. One of the colonels took the bet, but I wouldn't shut up. By the end, I'd bet that I'd shoot the commander in the head at two hundred meters."

"Brave boy," she chuckled. "Did you learn your lesson?"

His mandibles spread in a smug grin. "Actually, I made the shot form two hundred and eleven meters. Right between the eyes. Next leave, I bought five rounds."

Shepard was gaping in shock when he finished, but quickly schooled her expression. "Impressive. Long-range rifle?"

He nodded. "Mantis. With my… personal modifications."

"Ooh… tech head," she purred gleefully, and he swallowed nervously. Why did she sound like that… "Well, I owe you a story now, right?" she said suddenly, contorting herself so she was sitting with her legs in a knot. Was that even comfortable? "How I got my medal?" Her hands settled in her lap and her expression grew pensive. "It was supposed to be shore leave, out in the SKyllian Verge. There'd been reports of unknown activity, but no one was worried. It was far away, and barely a blip on our radar…" She shook her head. "Elysium was hit by a slaver attack, no one saw it coming. I managed to organize a few dozen marines in all the chaos and keep the slavers at bay until our reinforcements arrived. It… wasn't pretty…" She started unbuttoning her shirt and he felt his neck get hot. What was she… When she pulled the collar aside, a ragged, burst like scar covered the left side of her chest, just below the shoulder. "I took a spear bolt, through and through. 'A medical marvel', apparently." She shrugged and prodded the scar tissue absently. "Alliance gave me a medal for courage and heroism, and Captain Harcourt requested I be transferred to his ship. Another hero on his crew of slaver hunters. Best assignment I ever got…"

She trailed off and he looked down at his hands. It wasn't the tale of glorious victory he'd been expecting. "The colony?"

The lieutenant blinked and took a breath. "Recovered. There's a monument, I think." But it was clear she didn't think that was enough.

Strange, strange human. Yet she was fascinating. He hesitated to say admirable, but… impressive at least. "When I was young, we lived in the capitol on Palaven, and there was this… desert behind our home that went on for miles. Beautiful in the summers. My sister and I thought if we kept walking, we'd fall off the world." He chuckled at the memory. "In reality, we fell into a ravine. After a few hours, my father found us out there, and I thought he was ready to kill us for being so careless, but he didn't say anything. Just took us home, gave us… I guess you'd call it candy, and sent us to bed. He's never talked about it, even when we asked, and I don't think I've ever seen him like that again."

Shepard nodded slowly. "Your father keeps things close to the vest, doesn't ne."

His subharmonics rumbled an affirmative, but he nodded anyway. "That would be an understatement. But yes. Unless he's angry, disagreeing, disapproving, or scolding. _That_ he does freely." He paused. "Once I thought his head might actually explode."

"Oh?"

"I… It was on Illium. We'd found an aasha bar—a…" He waved vaguely. "It's similar to what you humans call… hookah?" At her smirk, he continued. "Anyway, I had… less than scrupulous companions and unbeknownst to me, we were given taffa."

Shepard laughed and quickly covered her mouth. "Oh, Maker, you were _stoned_!"

What did rocks have to do with anything? He was sure his confusion showed on his face. "If you mean intoxicated…"

"Sure, kid."

"Right… My father was there on assignment and found us lying out in a park, staring up at nothing and laughing. He yelled so much, I swear he was actually breathing smoke." He shook his head. "I wasn't even afraid of my CO finding out because I knew it couldn't be worse."

She laughed again. "I hope I never meet him. Oh—no offense."

"None taken. Your turn."

The lieutenant smirked. "Alright. There was this dancer, and—"

"Shepard! Your bail's been posted," one of the guards interrupted as the barrier opened, "try not to end up in here again."

She sighed and popped to her feet. "I suppose this is good bye, Gunny," she huffed, stretching lazily. "It's been a pleasure."

"Wait," he blurted out quickly as she slipped through the barrier. She paused, and he had to scramble for a reason to stop her. "You still owe me a story."

That made her eyes sparkle and her lips pulled into a smile. "That I do. If we meet again, I'll tell you one." Again, she paused and added, "Good luck, Vakarian." It sounded so natural when she said it…

As she walked away and the barrier closed, he couldn't help but wonder… would they? The guard handed her her guns and belt, and a young man—barely eighteen by the look of him—came up alongside her.

" _Dios_ , Shepard, you're lucky I was even on the Citadel… My uncle thinks I'm meeting a girl!"

She chuckled as she snapped on her weapons. "You are, James. Me!"

"That isn't—"

She put an arm around his shoulders and steered him back toward the Wards. "I know, I know. But trust me, James, I'll make it up to you someday."

Garrus watched until they disappeared, mandibles twitching. Humans… They were so interesting…


End file.
